


Sometimes you have to

by yeyfiction



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-01-30 03:57:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21421813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeyfiction/pseuds/yeyfiction
Summary: The sun is shining through the blinds into the doctors eyes as the morning beams awake him from his slumber. He sits up straight as he does every morning, ready to take on another day of doing whatever it is that life throws at him or to be more precise, Sherlock. Today was going to be like any other. He couldn’t have known how wrong he would be with that thought.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 3





	1. the last day of normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today was going to be like any other. He couldn’t have known how wrong he would be with that thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic. I hope you like it. If you have any criticism, let me know!

The sun is shining through the blinds into the doctor’s eyes as the morning beams awake him from his slumber. He sits up straight as he does every morning, ready to take on another day of doing whatever it is that life throws at him, or to be more precise, Sherlock. He didn't know what the day held for him but he was more than excited to find out. He also wanted to see Sherlock again after having a few questionable dreams during the night, ranging from nightmares to a couple of more pleasant dreams featuring a certain curly haired man. Sure it was going to be a little weird for him once he got down stairs but he'd be lying if he said that it was the first time. Today was going to be like any other. He couldn’t have known how wrong he would be with that thought.

He opened his drawer took out some of his medication and gulped it down quickly. he put the bottle back and took a glance around the same old shanty room that he's been living in for almost ten years. God.. ten... fucking... years. It's been a while, hasn't it? He stands up ringing out his shoulder which was still a bit sore from the good nights rest. While taking a shirt from the dresser he heard a bing on his phone. He turned around to grab it and found a text from Greg.

_"i'll open it later_" he thought. Greg usually only texts when he wants to get together for a pint or two. If it were really important he would call. It’s been a while though. Today is supposed to be one of those days. The quiet ones that make your skin crawl to some degree and that drive Sherlock up the damn wall. It would be nice to get out of the house when that happens. He opens the text and it’s what he thought it would be.

-_Hey, how are you? You free tonight? I was thinking we could go out and have a drink or two_

He smiled down at his phone. God, he could use a drink but you never know if you have time with a flatmate like his. Better go ask him if there are any new cases.

  
As john sauntered down the stairs to make himself a cuppa, he noticed Sherlock working on one of his experiments over the countertop as he often does. He hasn’t moved since John last saw him. But whatever, you get used to the man’s unhealthy sleeping habits after a while. John took two cups from the cupboard and poured tea into both of them, handed one to Sherlock and sat down to read the daily newspaper that Mrs Hudson had been kind enough to bring up.

  
He will ask him, eventually.

As he’s looking through the newspaper he notices some crime articles, some adverts but what catches his eye is the one advert referencing having both Sherlock and john on a TV show as tonights' guests. Strange, John thinks as he reads further along. He glances back up to see Sherlock already staring at him with a knowing look. That sneaky bastard.

_“there’s an article that mentions us”_ john clears his throat _“I’m aware”_ Sherlock responds as though not very interested in the conversation but John has picked up a thing or two about reading sherlock these past 10 Years and John can tell that he is… tense. He looks at what the article says about them being on the show today.

_“ Did you know about this?”_ John asks carefully.

_“I’ve set us a meeting with the host involving a case that I’m currently working on but in return he asked us to be on his show. Something about, having the honour of being in our presence and asking a few questions cause London is just DYEing to know."_

He scoffs.

_"Naturally I agreed as it is the only way to get him to talk to us.”_

John looked at him with irritation _“and when were you going to tell me about it?”_

Sherlock made a non-comital noise to indicate that the conversation was over.

Well there go his plans, better let Lestrade know. He takes out his phone and taps a quick message. He though he saw Sherlock have small smile from the corner of his eye but when he turned to look at him, Sherlock was completely engrossed in his experiment.

The day passed as any other but with every waking hour closer to the show John was beginning to grow more and more anxious. Crowds weren’t really his thing. What should he wear? Let alone what will they even talk about? Will they ask about Sherlock? Their relationship? Of course they will probably hint at something as everyone else at some point does.

He’s never been on a talk show though. Who knows? It might be fun. He just hopes he doesn’t embarrass himself tonight. He would literally never live it down.  
He squeezes his fist. His muscles are getting kind of sore. He really should take that shower. Especially if people are going to see him tonight. The shower might ease his aching muscles as well. Water HAS always helped with that…

The hour was getting closer and it was time to start heading to the studio. The cab ride there was long and tedious. Apparently even Sherlock can’t get special enough treatment to not be stuck in traffic during rush hour.

  
They made it in time though and were given a studio tour. After that they waited in the dressing room. It was quiet except for the silent tapping of Sherlock on his phone.

“Lestrade?”

“Mmm.”

Great. He wasn’t listening. There was little he could do to calm his nerves but he tried anyway. If Sherlock had noticed, he was kind enough to not mention it.

  
The time had come, a short blond haired man called them out for their cue. Sherlock glanced at John and gave him a reassuring smile. He must be nervous too, john though. How could he not be, he despises people. Though, he has never had an issue with a crowd before. He loves the attention.

It was time. They walked out onto the open stage with thousands of people cheering and applauding them while they found their way to their seats. They each gave a quick shake of the hand and sat as the crowd quieted down. “ Hi there I’ve been meaning to talk to you two for such a long time. The batman and Robin of London.” Sherlock inwardly cringed at the stupid and dull comparison. He was much more of a pirate than anything “Now you two have know each other for about ten years” the host, Jackie, continued “but how well do you really know each other?” There was a dramatic pause. The audience was quiet except for the suspenseful awe. John and Sherlock looked at each other with dubiety but before either of them could respond, Jackie progressed. “I have a series of clips that I'm going to show the both of you about each other and the person who is not currently in the clip has to guess what happens next after we pause it”

Sherlock actually snorted at that and rolled his eyes. John gently nudged him with his elbow. “behave, Sherlock, were here for a favour”

The lights dimmed down and the first clip started playing of John. He knew exactly what it was and caught his breath. That’s not him. It couldn’t be. They wouldn’t… But as soon as the blonde little boy turned in the river with a blob of water just floating between his fingers. He knew.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

He moved so gracefully in the black and white video. Luckily the definition wasn’t the best. Maybe if he just…

The clip ends and Jackie continues “Sherlock, your turn. What do you think will happen next?”

Sherlock looked confused. He turned to John who was staring at nothing, trying to avoid his gaze.

Then John speaks up. “That’s not even me”

He tries to sound kind of incredulous but he can tell that Sherlock isn’t buying any of it even if everyone else is.

Jackie asks to zoom in the video and it clears on his face. Albeit a lot younger then he currently was. But unmistakably his.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been able to do magic, sorry” He pipes up with a fake chuckle. Some of the audience has eased up a bit but the atmosphere in the room was still very tense.

“Even so” Jackie says “ we we’re given this clip anonymously and we were confirmed that it was in fact, you.” She’s starting to sound a little irritated now. She obviously had a plan.

A quick glance at Sherlock confirmes that he is still trying to figure out what’s going on.

  
“Okay well here is how the clip ends”

John grips his chair so hard, his knuckles turn white.

He watches his younger self playing with the water in the air. Bending it. And then it happened. The water around his legs engulfed him and turned to ice while the person holding the camera had dropped it and was screaming his name. There were some distant voices but the video cut out shortly.

It was so quiet in the room, you could hear a pin drop.

Jackie continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened though. Yeah, maybe her smiled was a bit too forced and her words a bit too strained, but other then those subtle signs, you wouldn’t have guessed that that single video would tear down the realty as you know it.

They went on a commercial break. And John left the stage to take a quick breather. He pretty much ran to the bathroom and as soon as he got there he lifted up the toilet seat and violently hurled into it.

He remembers that day all too well.

There was a small knock on the door. And a strangers voice asking if he was okay. He tried to clean himself up as best he could and exited the cubicle. It was a strange looking man. Nothing about him seemed nice. All cold and eerie.

“ I’m a little nervous” John finished with a chuckle. But the man’s cold expression didn’t change. John walked past him to the sinks to wash his hands and out of the corner of his eye looked at the mirror to see if the man had made any effort to leave.

He was still standing there.

He was almost done washing his hands when he heard a small click of the lock on the door.

The man had locked them in. When John looked up at the mirror, the man was throwing his fist towards him. But it didn’t seem like the normal punch. He realised a little too late that the man had firebended at him. He barely got out of the way and it left scortch marks on the tiles and made the mirror wonky.

Fuck.

He knew this would happen. He had been so careful.

He needs to find Sherlock. NO. He needs to leave. NOW. Finding Sherlock would put him in danger.

The man threw another punch and this time John was ready for it. The sink behind him exploded and the water covered the mans torso and froze in an instant. It gave him enough time to unlock the door and run out of the building. When he looked back though, he saw the same man. Now angry and full of malice, running after him, trying to be as little obvious as possible that he is chasing him.

John can’t go home. Sherlock is there.

His phone rings. It’s Sherlock

  
God, not now.

  
He adjusts the phone and looks for a good place to dispose of it. Sherlock will follow him. This has to be done.

And as if the gods themselves had had the same idea, he turned a corner and saw an open sewage hole. He chucked it in there and tried to look for a place to hide.

  
He can’t fight. Too many people. But neither can the firebender. There will be more of them though. He’ll never be safe here again. Well as safe as you can be, chasing down murderers every day.

It’s times like this that he wishes he hadn’t given up bending before learning the other elements. What he’d give to be able to earthbend right now.  
He turns another corner and it’s a dead end

Shit.

He climbs up the fire escape latter onto the roof and scopes out the best place where he could lay low for a while and figure out a plan. Come on come on, there has to be something. He’s looking into the distance at the Thames. Should he? No, too dangerous and doesn’t give him a sense of stability. He needs someplace distant, discarded.

The Sewers? He could probably navigate without ever coming in contact with the sludge inside. The man was catching up to him so it’s now or never. He jumps onto the next rooftop and runs as fast as he can. He sees an open sewer drain and tries to get there as fast as humanly possible with as little witnesses as possible.

  
The cameras see him though. Damn Mycroft. Sherlock probably already knows exactly where he is.

He slides his way inside the sewer and god does it stink. The man is ready to follow but John hurls a big wave of sewage through the tiny hole that the man was going to jump through and nails him dead on. The stench was the worst he had ever smelled but it would probably take some time before anyone found him in the pipes.

He runs further inside until he’s sure that no one is following him anymore. He sits down when he find another dead end._ I’m so tired._ He realises. But he can rest later. Right now he has to get out of here. Away from London. Maybe even England?

He doesn’t have his passport or anything so he can’t leave the country. He can however leave the city, but he has to do it in a way that won’t get him caught. He has to figure out how to avoid all the cameras, not to mention he can’t go anywhere he’s been before. Those would be the first places people would look.

_Maybe I should’ve asked for Sherlocks help? He would insist on coming along though, and that can’t happen. I can’t lose anyone else because of my bending._

He has to leave. And do it alone. If he gets to the Thames he could probably get himself on a boat, maybe even bend himself to Lechlade. Here’s to hoping My-croft doesn’t have such quality security everywhere in England. He could probably find a place to stay until he figures out his next move.

He gets up and starts heading for the closest opening near The Thames. He finds a pipe leading straight towards it but it’s covered with bars. He tries to bend them but the bars hold strong. Maybe I can break them with water?

He gets a little cleaner water from the river and starts to slice the top of the bars. It’s time consuming but he’s in a good place and no one can see him working on getting out. When he finally manages to slice through the bars he crawls out and freezes the bars back in place with the water hoping it would be harder to notice.

  
In the distance he sees an oncoming ship and though it probably won’t take him where he needs to go, he could still hitch a bit of a ride. He dives into the river and makes the water push him towards the boat as fast as it can go. Which he’s got to admit is actually pretty fast. It wears him out quick though and by the time he has caught up with the ship, he is close to collapsing but he manages to make one final push and fling himself on board.

He hears voices coming his way so he hides behind the barrels and the cargo. The footsteps pass him and he lets himself breathe again. He should really get some clothes other than his suit. He sticks out like a sore thumb. He tries to look for something better to wear on the ship but with no luck until he reaches a cabin. He listens closely for any indication that someone is inside but finds none so he decides to open the door. He creaks it open and peeks inside and it's how he thought it would be. Empty.

He goes inside and closes the door behind him quickly. Making sure to make as little noise as possible. The cabin isn’t well lit but it has some leftover food and clothes which is all he really needs. He eats the remaining bread and chugs the beer. He takes off his clothes and replaces them with the ones he found. He de-cides to get rid of his suit. _No point in bringing this with me. It’s just dead weight at this point._

He sneaks out of the cabin and throws his suit overboard. It’s completely dark outside now. The only visible places are the shining lights of the city next to them and the reflection of the moon on the water. Its beautiful. Too bad this is the last time he’ll ever see it.


	2. The confusion that follows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock doesn't understand what's going on. All he knows is that John is gone...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit shorter but I wanted to get Sherlocks point of view out there.

Sherlock was sitting next to John when the video was being shown. He felt John grow tense beside him.

_Why would he react like that_ _? yeah the video was strange and the editing must have been done by a professional but that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone dabbles in making a video at some point in their life. Though he would have thought that John coming from a poorer family meant he didn’t get to experience such things that often. The context seemed weird. It’s almost as if they went out of their way to make it look real. Not the usual fun video that kids do to make a small horror movie. That usually has really bad acting, not to mention little to no effects._

This video was a mystery. John obviously wasn’t expecting anyone to see it. And yet the host of this mundane talk show felt it entertaining or important enough to show. He’d have to talk to John about it later.

The video had come to an end a while ago and he realised that people were talking. He hadn’t been paying attention, too engrossed in his own mind to care. He really should pick up on whats going on if a simple clip could make John go rigid.

Jackie was leading the show to a commercial break and as soon as she was done reciting the lines on screen, John stood up and ran off leaving him to sit next to the host who was basically ignoring him.

Interesting. Very interesting. John looked sick, pale. Maybe the editing was added in afterwards but the clip actually happened? The woman’s voice calling out to John at the end had very clearly been a younger family member. Harry he presumes. Something happened in that recording that he can’t see.

_He can’t see! Oh why can’t he see??_

John, he could ask John when he comes back.

Jackie turns to him with irritation, signaling that it’s time to go back on air. _Where is he? He should probably go check on him._

He was walking further down the studio to the loo when a big crash caught his ear. The door swung open and a figure in the distance started running in the opposite direction. It was John. _Why was he running? He’s wet. He heard a crash_. He picks up his pace until he’s also running but before he can make it to the bathroom door another strangers’ figure bursts out and heads in the direction that John was going. _He’s in trouble. Someone is after him._

He doesn’t have time to think. He runs as fast as his legs can carry him out into the open. He can’t see them but there is only one real option as to where they could have gone. He’s running and panting, his mind racing a million miles an hour as to who this stranger could be and what does he want from John.

It’s the video. Something about it. It cut off as they were attacked. But they were young and clearly unsuspecting. And why the floating water? Where would someone get that video? The stranger must have know that the recording would be shown today and John would have to face it. Maybe they’re involved with the past attack.

The man was clearly in his thirties which would make him to young to be the threat in the video. Not to mention everything about him from the way he holds himself to his expensive tailormade suit reads high class businessman. A successful one at that. He could probably ask Mycroft for the details. He’ll be smug and ask for something in return but if this man is an actual threat to John, it’s worth it.

He suddenly realises that he’s been running for a while and hasn’t caught up to anyone yet. _I have a phone! Stupid. Stupid._ _Stupid_. He pulls it out of his suit jacket and presses john on speed dial. He’s not picking up. He tries again but after a few beeps the line goes dead. _Not good._

He dials Mycroft and he picks up after the first beep. “I know where he is” says Mycroft before Sherlock can bark at him. It catches him a bit off guard but he is sure to recompose himself quickly.

“ He’s on Lambeth High in the sewage pipes. We’ll keep an eye on him and let you know where he emerges though I’m sure you can figure that out on your own, brother.” The line cuts off and Sherlock is left clutching his phone. The sewers is an odd choice. He’s just about to open his phone again when he receives a text

  * _The stranger has been apprehended._

Surely Lestrade has him. He’ll wait for John to return home. In the meantime he can go to Scotland yard and see what the posh little bastard has anything to do with. He raises his hand to hail a cap and catches the first one. It’s not a long drive but the situation is making every second a living hell. The cab hasn’t even fully arrived when Sherlock jumps out the car and throws a few bills to the driver that ought to pay the fee.

When he reaches the building, he all but kicks Lestrades door open, barking out orders to take him to the man.

When he’s actually inside, he can smell the reek of the man’s clothes. Sewage. Must’ve jumped in after John. But John was always more agile on his feet. He knew how to get to places without anything slowing him down. He smiles fondly at the thought.

The smell has got the whole building smelling like the dump by this point, but Sherlock doesn’t seem all to put off by it. He has information. And he needs it. He needs it for John…

Sherlock pulls out a chair and plops himself into it all more gracefully than anyone could muster.

“who is he?” The question was aimed at Lestrade though his gaze never left the stinky man in front of him.

“ID says Giovanni Derpallo but it’s most likely a fake name. Our records couldn’t find anything on him. But… we did find this.” The inspector pulls out a ziplock bag with Johns’ picture and information on it. “It was in his back pocket, whoever wanted to get to John most likely hired this man to do the dirty work for them.”

Sherlocks eyes grow narrow as he glances him up and down. The man is nothing special. Just some lonely scum but a rich one at that so he obviously didn’t take this job for the money. He doesn’t need it. This was a personal hit. And a very carefully crafted out plan. Attacking someone in a place with thousands of people, between a timeframe that would surely alert anyone immediately of Johns disappearance, if it were to happen is very stupid and dangerous. There must have been a higher power here.

“If you tell us why you were after John and who hired you, it might help you ease your sentence. How about that?” Lestrade spoke up as the man stayed silent. This obviously wasn’t getting them anywhere.

Sherlock checked his phone for any updates from Mycroft, but his screen was empty. This was tedious. He needed to know what was going on.

“Everyone leave.” The order was forceful but quiet. Sherlock looked at everyone in the room who still hadn’t moved and said a little firmer. “Leave. Now”

Lestrade looked like he was about to say something but decided against it and quietly left the room with everyone else after him. The click of the door shutting was the last sound Sherlock heard before the long silence that ensued. The man wasn’t intimidated. He didn’t even seem a little worried. He looked as if he was made to babysit a nephew rather than sitting in an office waiting to be jailed. It was infuriating.

Sherlock was thinking of a way to go about it when the man in front of him shifted in his chair and took a deep breath. He let it out and with it he seemed to let down a bit of his cool composure. He stilled for a second and then propped himself up in a comfortable position so he could be ready to talk.

“ Look my boss is an interested party of his, you know what I’m saying?. John, he’s stubborn. Wouldn’t show up and disappeared without a trace. Doesn’t really like to do what he’s told you know? It’s a little hard to get a hold of him sometimes but my boss requested his presence. We couldn’t contact him any other way so he sent me to retrieve him, you understand? It’s nothing personal and I’m sure the bloke is doing just fine. My boss however. He’ll be mad. Veeeeryy mad, you know what I’m saying? You don’t want him to get mad. He has a bit of a temper” The man let’s out a strained chuckle.

“The name. Tell me.” Sherlock orders more than asks. But the mans’ stunned impression just fades into more laughter.

“Oh don’t even bother to find him. Trust me, he’s the kind of guy that pretty boys like you want to stay away from, you know?” he says in between his howl.

He’s voice alone could send chills up his spine, but his laughter is a whole other story. There’s no sincerity in it whatsoever and it’s in a word disturbing.

“His name.” Sherlock pushes on but is only met with more of that chilling chuckle.

“Doesn’t work that way, boy. Never met him in my life. Some people are curious to if he even exists, you know? Turns out that in order to meet him, you just have to be so bad of an employee that you leave a mark on him.

Sherlocks eyes light up a bit at that.

“No-ones’s lived to tell the tale though, sorry to burst your bubble, boy.” The man rolls back in on himself a bit as if the conversation is over but at this point Sherlock has already gotten what he wanted since he doubts he’ll get any more information out of him. He storms ou the door leaving the yard frozen on their feet as they watch him fly down the stairs and hail a cab.

He checks his phone again. It’s almost midnight and there are no messages or calls from his brother. Sherlock scowls at himself “Incompetent fool” under his breath.

The taxi driver perks up a bit but otherwise ignores Sherlock the rest of the way back to Baker street. He pays the man and steps out of the cab and into the cosy exterior of his home. He can tell that John hasn’t been home which is a bit of a shame. He was kind of hoping he would at least come by and pick up the last of his stuff. But this makes things easier for him. John can’t have gone far. He doesn’t have his things with him. He can’t leave the country. It makes things easier but he still can’t afford to waste any time. John could be in serious danger.

He needs to think of something, but for now it seems that all he can do is stare out the window into the city light of London and hope Mycroft catches anything on camera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any recommendations as to how to make this fic better, please let me know. I've never written a fanfic before.


End file.
